


Dead men do tell tales

by siriala



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Jared, Cemetery, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mortician Jared, Top Jensen, Voyeurism, a lot about death, but it's a schmoopy story, catacombs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7310497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriala/pseuds/siriala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared has been alone most of his life. Good thing dead people can't be picky when he talks to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead men do tell tales

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by the incomparable honscot who wrestles my fics into submission and proper English despite my stubbornness.
> 
> This is my entry for the SPN_meanttobe 2016 challenge over on LJ. Although I didn't get my first choice this year, I was happy enough with my prompt and had quite a few ideas about it, J2 or wincest-inspired. I finally decided to mix it with this other J2 idea I'd had a few weeks before but I still might write the wincest one someday…
> 
> The FBI agents I'm referring to are of course the members of the Criminal Minds BAU but you really don't need to know anything about them or the TV show to read this story. My knowledge of American police procedure is all TV shows induced so… just like any mention about embalming comes from online reading and absolutely no personal experience. Suspend your disbelief, ye who enter this fic.
> 
> Also, Jared sings David Bowie's [Ashes to Ashes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMThz7eQ6K0) and Black's [Wonderful Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kmv4GI9w_MY). As fate had it, both artists died this January and the world feels poorer for their loss. The original quote is from Louis Racine's La Religion (that you can find at http://gallica.bnf.fr/, its abysmal translation from me.
> 
> Thanks muchly to tebtosca for running the challenge as well as for the amnesty period which allowed me to finish my fic and share it in time. With the continuously worrisome news these past months, between terrorist attacks, unending strikes and the flooding in Paris, writing this story along with my upcoming big bang has been a welcomed diversion for me. I hope you'll enjoy it. The schmoop is strong with this one :)

\-------------

The rain had stopped falling by the time Jared finished emptying the oven and he was able to step out. Mrs. Galloway had agreed to share her gladioli with Doris but he hadn't had time yet to take her the flowers and he could already hear the seventy-something woman complaining loudly that she was always the last in Jared's mind.

He gathered half of the flowers and put them in a new pot before he made his way to the alley Doris now lived in.

"Here you go, ma'am. Enjoy the gladioli while they last."

Jared didn't mind that he got no answer. Doris was a skittish one and she tended to communicate only when she was pissed at someone or disappointed about some mistreatment, real or imaginary.

He settled the vase on the grave and arranged the flowers again.

"I thanked Mrs. Galloway for you, just in case you'd forgot. She was so happy that her granddaughter visited her and told her a bit about her current life. I guess she wants everyone else to be, too."

"Are you talking to me ?"

Jared's heart skipped a beat with the surprise of hearing another real, incarnate voice so close. Ghosts could be pretty invasive but living people had a very different feel to them, one that Jared didn't always enjoy but could recognize immediately.

He turned around and his heart stopped altogether at the sight of Jensen Ackles. The most beautiful man ever, back to the cemetery when Jared wasn't expecting him to ever return, not six months after Doris had been buried anyway.

"Sorry, no," he managed to stutter after a long while.

The man kept on looking at him. Not to judge him, it seemed, just slightly amused.

"It feels lonely here, working with dead people," Jared blurted before he tried once more, to make himself look normal, or as close as possible. "I come here and talk to them sometimes. They can be good company, you know."

His visitor turned towards the grave Jared had been tending to, thankfully not asking about the source of the flowers.

"So you were talking to my mother. I assure you, she never was good company to anyone when she was alive. But I guess she can't contradict you now ! That's a first."

Jared winced. Doris loved to contradict and lived to argue, and he had now confirmed that this moody disposition was nothing new.

"Was she that bad ?" he asked, genuinely intrigued by Jensen's sadness that had obviously nothing to do with the loss of his mother.

"She was… Emasculating is the first word that comes to mind. A bitch who told me all my life that I should have been a girl, that I should stop thinking with my dick and put to better use that matter we call grey, while wondering if I really had some between my ears. She was well over forty when she had me, and I never knew who my father was. She kept me locked at home until I was strong enough to force my way outside, and then she told me never to come back. I ended up on the streets because of her. I was fifteen. Because she didn't know how to love, and least of all her own son."

"Oh, please !" a female voice cut in.

Doris had decided to join the party.

"Stop whining, Jensen ! At least you learned what life's really about and to fend for yourself. This world wouldn't be on the verge of collapsing if parents stopped coddling their children. If they made real women and men out of them."

Jared turned a disbelieving look on Doris Ackles.

"You can't think that ?!"

Of course, her son took the comment to answer his own words.

"Are you one of those people who think that you shouldn't speak ill of the dead ? Because let me tell you, I don't believe in lying and trying to make someone look like they were a saint just because they've passed away."

"No ! No, you're right, that's not what I meant. I didn't have a very good relationship with my parents either. My father especially, but I can relate."

Jensen looked pained.

"Sorry I kinda jumped at you. This is still a sensitive topic for me, even after six months. I can't… I don't know why I came here today. I just had for a while this need to visit, and today felt like the right time."

Jared told himself to stop imagining that the look in Jensen's eyes meant he was the reason why Jensen was back. Stop building dreams that would ultimately hurt more than they would sustain him.

"Maybe coming here is your way to try and make peace with your past."

"Bullshit !" Doris mumbled behind him before she went away.

"Maybe," Jensen answered, eyes on the grave. "I must admit that your presence makes it all a lot easier than I feared. You look so much like a part of this peaceful place, like you belong. I remember your calm and empathy were my only anchor when I first came here. I was utterly lost, resentful that I had to take care of a woman who hadn't loved me, and you never judged me. Maybe I thought you would be helpful again today, that you could help me put my memories and trauma in order, but I realize now that I can't put this burden on you. I can just thank you for being there and for listening to me."

Jared was so stunned that he simply gave his hand when Jensen offered his to shake it, 'you're welcome' stuck in his throat. Gazes locked, they stayed in this position for what had to be at least two good minutes without either of them moving.

"Thanks again," Jensen murmured before he took his hand away, leaving Jared bereft and cold, and turned to leave.

"Jensen !" Jared called him back right before the other man had a chance to disappear in the perpendicular alley, playing vanishing tricks on him like any of the ghosts populating his cemetery.

Jensen turned back to look at him.

"Come back," he pleaded fervently. "Anytime. I'll be here for you. Ask for me, and I'll come to you. Please."

Jared would be alerted about Jensen's presence the second he asked for him. Perhaps even before that. There were no more efficient gossips in this world than ghosts with nothing but time on their immaterial hands. After just a few minutes of conversation, lots of them were already crowding around them, surprised to see Jared interacting with another human being who was still alive. No doubt they would make sure to bring them together again, if only to get a new and shiny distraction in their otherwise very stick-in-the-mud afterlife.

Jared knew one thing for sure about dead people : they often let their death look like their past life. Habits, fear of change, lack of imagination, stubbornness… whatever the reason, rare were the ones who tried new ways of dealing as many saw no point in changing after they had left their material existence behind, waiting for a hypothetic journey towards another veil that seemed more frightening than alluring. And Doris was a perfect example, a woman who had made her son's life a living hell and still couldn't see past her own prejudices after hearing his naked pain.

But Jensen was different. If he was willing to let go of the hatred and suffering he had carried all his life, Jared would be here to help and hope that maybe, maybe – in case Jensen was ready to open himself to weirdness, or at least unwilling to judge – he could change his own life at the same time.

"Next week," Jensen finally answered with a soft smile. "I'll be here."

\-------------

He was missing Jensen already. Had been missing him all day long since the other man had left, memories of his gorgeous smile interfering with his thoughts again and again, wishing he could fill the raw need, so apparent in his eyes, for a human connection that Jared needed just as much, on every and all planes.

The water flowed lazily from the showerhead above Jared, rivulets running down to envelop his body and offer him the closest thing to a cocoon of affection Jared had ever experienced.

He imagined Jensen's hands following the same path, wanted to feel them on his cock instead of his own, a violent shiver shaking him as the idea of Jensen's fiery focus all trained on him settled and took root, his cock growing harder and harder with the dream getting more real…

But then he felt the startling and unmistakable ghostly presence of a friend bringing the temperature of the overheated bathroom down with his entrance. Very useful in summer, but sure to piss Jared off when it meant being jolted out of his sexy daydreaming.

"Chad !" Jared exclaimed.

"Still pretty, my boy," the diaphanous figure saluted him.

"I told you not to come here. Ever."

Jared's fantasy was definitely ruined. He stopped the water and reached for the towel.

"Keep cool, man," Chad protested. "It's not as if your virtue was in danger with me."

Chad's libido had been his undoing. Caught romancing the wrong girl – the mayor's daughter, back at the end of the 19th century – and consequently sentenced to prison on false motive, then killed by the guy he had tried to seduce behind bars. Chad's family had sent him to lie forever out of the city to forget about this disgrace to their family tree. No one ever came to put flowers on his grave, not after more than one century since Chad had taken his last breath.

Jared had met him as he was already showering, first time in a long line of startling appearances designed to make him feel as embarrassed as possible while offering the best view to Chad's leering gaze. Jared had learned to ignore him, because no place or moment was out of bounds to the dead guy. Nothing pleased him more than to walk in on Jared jerking off to encourage and advise him. He called that living vicariously through the only interesting person here at the funeral home and deplored only Jared's lack of a real sex life. It was downright incomprehensible to him that Jared wouldn't get laid on a daily basis with such a body to show and share.

As if anyone would ever want to commit to someone like Jared. No one wanted him. Not even for a simple one-night stand. Only Chad had ever made him feel good about his own body. A dead, equal-opportunity pervert who would have jumped anyone in his time and was still obsessed with sex now that he had no hope to ever act upon his desires.

Good catch, Padalecki !

But barring this fatal flaw, Chad was Jared's only friend, the only one watching out for him and encouraging him to get a life while he still could.

"I saw that pretty boy you were talking to," Chad commented, following Jared into his bedroom. "My, my ! Wish I were a little less dead, I would go for those lips in a heartbeat. Can I use this expression when I don't have a heartbeat anymore ? Whatever ! Imagine the equivalent for a guy whose heart hasn't beaten in a while. Wouldn't stop me from begging him to fuck me blind."

Jared turned towards the ghost in less than a heartbeat, in a state of fury unreasonable even to him but just as impossible to quell.

"You won't touch him !"

"Why ?" Chad teased him. "Did someone finally have your own very alive, very deprived heart beating faster ? Are you at last planning some fun for yourself ?"

Jared remained stubbornly silent after his too-revealing outburst as he chose a shirt to put on. But Chad wasn't one to be deterred by a pout or a lack of answer.

"Those lips on your dick," he continued with a suggestive tone, "his possessive hands all over your perfect body, his cock buried deep inside your A-class ass… You've already imagined it all, am I right ?"

"Go away !" Jared bellowed, and this time Chad seemed to get it as he disappeared.

He always felt more alone than ever when Chad was gone, whether he had wished for his visit or not in the first place. And it was even worse today, after talking with Jensen Ackles and feeling himself so uncommonly alive in his presence. So attracted, wishing for something he couldn't quite put into words, save for the need to come closer to him, to be authorized to touch and learn everything about the other man.

Jared didn't usually handle the commercial stuff that came with working at a funeral home. He had hired someone to deal with this, an English-born guy with a flair for talking rounds around grieving people, make them feel at ease and ready to spend their money. Sheppard was great at looking friendly and sympathetic. His accent distracted most people from their grief while he talked them into buying stuff their dearly departed wouldn't need but would make the living feel better. Sheppard was the reason Jared's enterprise was still afloat and had even begun to make a profit while Jared was still able to do the only part of this job he enjoyed : tending to the dead people and easing their passing into another kind of life.

For some reason Jared didn't remember, Sheppard hadn't been there the day Jensen had first set foot in Jared's funeral home, prompting Jared to replace him. He was sure he had been pretty bad at it but Jensen hadn't seemed to mind, looking only for the basic package deal for his deceased mother, first price coffin and non-ceremonial burial. He could have seemed cold but Jared had been too enamored already with his surreal beauty, feeling in the other man something too close to his own suffering to judge him.

He knew why now, and he was so glad Jensen had come back despite Jared's conviction that he would never see him again, his certainty that such a man would never be interested in him, and it sure wasn't a mother he obviously hadn't loved very much who would ensure Jensen's regular visits at the cemetery.

Jared was happy he had been wrong. He couldn't shake entirely the idea that Jensen had felt in him the answering need and feelings and that was why they were drawn to each other.

One week. One week and Jensen would be back, telling Jared more about himself, creating a bond that Jared wished unfathomable and unbreakable. And then maybe Jared would find the courage to tell Jensen about himself too.

\-------------

Jared's father had been one of the most prolific and dangerous serial killers of the previous century. Probably still was, under the thick layers of drugs and therapy he'd been kept in for the last fifteen years.

For two decades, the man had killed, raped and tortured. Young males preferably, whose resemblance to himself Jared had refused to see at first when the FBI agents had caught up with Jasper Padalecki and put an end to his killing spree.

Somehow, his terrible acts splashed onto Jared, covering him with the metaphorical blood of his victims, even though Jared himself discovered the truth at the same time everybody else did. Even though he was still just a child at that time. Even though he could just as easily have died because of his father's murderous rage as any random person who had the misfortune to pass his way on a bad day.

When the press stopped invading his family's life and publishing every scrap of news about the man they had dubbed the Alfresco Killer, Jared tried to make himself small and forgotten, but everywhere he went his height kind of made him a target for stares, and Padalecki was not a name easily forgotten. He was bullied and booed as the son of a monster, probably a monster himself. His legacy.

He understood people's fears, for it was the same kind he felt retrospectively. He understood and wondered, deep inside himself, how likely he was to turn into a monster someday. He understood and tried to say it to the victims' families, but no one wanted to hear him after his name had come to erect a barrier between them. No one save maybe for the dead themselves.

He visited their graves at night to make sure he wouldn't be spotted, offering his apologies and asking for forgiveness. He visited in prison the father he now despised so much, trying to get him to reveal the location of his last victims' burial grounds. He made amends for crimes he hadn't committed, feeling just as guilty as his criminal father, in a desperate attempt to bring closure to the loved ones they had left behind, mourning and so angry. Whatever Special Agent Hotchner might say about the sins of the father not being the son's guilt to bear, Jared felt he needed to offer his life in exchange for the losses other families had suffered.

But it was never enough, and Jared finally broke down one day in front of a grave. He reared in fear when he felt a hand on his shoulder, barely a touch but well and truly there. Still, the voice of the immaterial being watching him with sorrow was firm and clear.

"Don't trouble yourself, young man," the gory figure said, "your heart is good and it's no fault of yours if your father is a monster."

Jared wept then, and he knew he'd never tell Agent Hotchner, Agent Rossi, or any of their kind-hearted but far too smart colleagues what he'd found that day. They would see it as delusions at best, psychosis at worst, and medicate him just like his father. Just in case, you know.

As more of his father's victims appeared and talked to him, followed by dead people who had nothing to do with the elder Padalecki, Jared kept silent, but he knew he had found his purpose.

Even then, mortician school proved not easy either. Everybody knew who he was. Maybe he could have gotten away with it, had he been called Smith, Wilson or Reynolds. But Padalecki was too rare a name to make it possible to hide and be forgotten by people who dealt with death for a living. They had him pegged on the first day. Surely, his interest in the mortuary sciences could only derive from the same insanity that had led his father to torture and kill.

Some strange and probably misplaced pride had always forbidden him to change his name for something inconspicuous and dull. He was Jared Padalecki, son of a murderer, a madman, but his legacy hadn't turned him into a madman too, and even less of a killer.

But explaining that he wanted to help the dead was impossible. With his background, Jared would be brought to the psych ward and locked away as soon as the words had passed his lips, FBI agents vouching for him or not. Instead, he let his professors and colleagues infer that he was still trying to make amends or that he had found a better way to deal with the murderous impulses rampant in his family.

Still, no one wanted to be friends with the sicko and Jared's life was never as lonely as among his peers who feared his craziness would somehow catch and make them look just as bad in the public eye. So the discovery of his ability had been both a soothing revelation and the end of his hopes for a normal social life.

When solitude became too much, Jared could always count on his ghostly friends anyway.

\-------------

_"Ashes to ashes, funk to funky… I'm stuck with a valuable friend, I'm happy. Hope you're happy, too."_

The Bowie song turning in his head as usual, Jared accomplished the customary chores and finished cleaning the oven he would need the next day to discover the new tenant whose body still lay on the table had appeared next to him. The guy didn't seem to know what to make of his new situation and Jared sighed, ready to help once again.

Some ghosts were shier than others, delaying their appearance until the moment they felt safe enough to show themselves. Some were too stunned – often the ones dead in unpredictable and quick accidents – to resist asking Jared the questions flaring in time with their curiosity. Doris had complained that Jared's work took too long, every detail discussed and criticized.

She still did at times nowadays, especially right after Jensen's visits, which meant Jared didn't care at all because it gave him the opportunity to talk about his crush again after Jensen had left to go back home. And the more Jensen and he were becoming friends, the louder Doris complained.

Jared couldn't wait to hear her again later today. Jensen had upped the number of his weekly visits to two, sometimes even three if he could make it, and Jared now lived for these moments stolen to adversity. They gave matter and depth to his life, purpose and laughter. Jared re-watched the security camera films at night and he was just as astonished by his own attitude as the perpetual smile Jensen kept steering at him.

"I'm sorry," the new dead guy yanked him back to the present, trying to clear his voice as if he still had vocal cords and a throat. "What am I doing here ? I can't remember how I got here."

"Hello, Rob," Jared greeted him, remembering the file he had been given by the police. "This is your new home."

"Home ? I don't have a home. I live in the streets."

Jared would have known without the file. Rob's body had been unwashed and smelly, but most of all it bore the signs of a hard life underneath those of the punches and burns that had ended it. The case had been too obvious and too uninteresting for an autopsy to be ordered, Rob's body getting shipped immediately to the funeral home. Jared had decided not to cremate him after the way he had died, preferring to bury him in a nice and comfortable coffin.

"Is that for me ?" Rob asked, pointing to the nice jeans and shirt waiting next to the table for Jared to finish his job and dress the body up.

"Yes.

"Cool !"

At least Rob wasn't complaining. Jared had heard more than one ghost bitching about the way they had been dressed before their burial or cremation as it was the way they would appear and see themselves forever. Jared had stopped forcing the issue long ago and he tried to wait for the ghosts to show up and tell him their wishes, unless something told him the style they would be most comfortable with.

That had been the case with Rob and he got no recrimination as he dressed the body and put the final touch to his work.

"And where's my dog ?" Rob worried suddenly, clearly more afraid for the mutt than for his own fate.

"Already waiting for you next to your grave," Jared informed him with a happy grin. "Shall we go see her ?"

In a cemetery that had somehow specialized in holding places for the lost and the lonely, it was inevitable that lots of animals who had survived their masters would come and make a new home for themselves too next to their human friends' graves. Jared had been surprised at first, and many had told him to get rid of them, to shut the doors of the cemetery so that they wouldn't disturb the peace of the place, but he loved dogs too much to separate them from their ghosts. As few ghosts were capable of touch, especially newborn ones, Jared provided the caresses the animals needed once in a while, enchanted to get affection back from the four-legged companions so loyal even in death.

The dogs had stopped hiding after Jensen's first few visits. Jared had been delighted to see him share his own caresses with the shaggy mutts and offer money to help feed them when Jared had explained a sizable part of his profits went to this. He said he had never seen such a lively graveyard and wanted to help keep it that way. DJ and Clif – aka Laurel and Hardy in Sheppard's speak – Jared's employees in charge of driving the bodies and keeping the grounds tidy, had highly approved of Jensen since then. No visit passed without Jensen bringing treats for the dogs. Often accompanied by something to satisfy Jared's sweet tooth, as if Jensen was trying to learn about Jared's preference and storing the information somewhere in his mind for later use.

"Darky !" Rob cried in joy as they neared the tomb that would shortly be his.

The dog barked and threw herself at the short ghost walking next to Jared, going through him without understanding what the heck had happened there and barking some more. It would take a bit of time for her to get used to this – for them both, really – but Jared was confident they would be happier here than ever before. And they would both love Jensen as soon as they met, just like any other guest of Jared's at the cemetery. Even ghostly dogs tried to cuddle with him and let him walk right through them without a discontent groan.

Jared was so in love with the man it wasn't funny anymore, and he couldn't seem to find the courage to tell him about the true nature of the graveyard and his job. It was so good already that Jensen never flinched when Jared told him about some of the things he did. Calling it embalming or thanatopraxis didn't make it more appealing or interesting. It still meant dead people embarking on a new adventure Jared had a glimpse of but couldn't talk about. So much of his life was tied to the topic of death, from his killer father to the ghosts populating his daily universe. Jared wanted to tell Jensen about it all, needed to vent at times about all these pains he had suffered and never got to share, but still he couldn't. He was afraid Jensen would tire of waiting for him to give back the trust he had showed Jared by talking to him so openly, and yet…

Chad teased him day after day, during his shower, after he was done mocking him for shaving every time Jensen was supposed to come when he used to do it only once a week, whispering in his ear all the alluring moves Jensen would get to if allowed to touch Jared, all the kisses and touches, all the love and lovemaking. Jared's eyes closed every night to images of Jensen going down on him or arranging Jared's body to make passionate love to him. But still his fears won and kept the status quo going.

A light ringtone emanated from his cell phone and Jared read the text asking for his presence in the office. He didn't hurry back, making sure Rob was okay and telling him to come to him with any question, before he made his way back to the front of the funeral home. It was a gorgeous day and Jared didn't look forward to going back in, wishing instead that he could go and sit in the garden with Jensen and forget everything that wasn't the feeling of the other man's presence close to him.

Jared had several staff meetings during a week. The most dreaded and boring was the official one, a weekly occurrence that gathered every employee and lasted often more than an hour. Jared hated it mostly because he had to ignore ghosts during that time, Chad especially whose second greatest pleasure in the afterlife was to see Jared squirm and close to losing it in front of other people.

One-on-one unscheduled meetings went more smoothly, even with Amanda, Jared's administrative assistant. An accountant by trade, the woman was strict and unforgiving in her management of the funeral home, never bowing to Jared's directives without a fight if she felt he was being unreasonable – she didn't like dogs much, and even less giving caskets away for less than their costs. She was one of the few, maybe the only one, who hadn't fallen in love with Jensen, almost sending him on his way back home the first time he had showed up to talk. Thank Chad for alerting Jared ! But her boss' angry reaction back then had been all Amanda needed to understand the nature of Jared's interest and show her disapproval with an attitude more haughty than ever.

Jared didn't know if she disapproved of Jensen encouraging what she saw as Jared's lunacy, or if she simply was a religious bigot condemning homosexuality. He didn't care to ask for she would answer truthfully, like the day she had told him it was just and right that he pay for the sins of his father. They had never broached the topic again but he knew she thought of his loneliness as fair penance for the despicable crimes of his family, regardless of who was the actual criminal.

"Jared," she said in her typical uptight tone and pinched smile as soon as he knocked on her office door, "I sent Clif and DJ to retrieve a 62-year-old man's body whose family wants full embalming. I checked, they have money, so don't go all bleeding heart on me. No discount or favor if they ask you. Full price for the full job. Are we clear ?"

He wondered at times who was the real boss of the place. He needed these people around him to make sure the funeral home would not become bankrupt but he couldn't stand the way their priorities always went to money and profits. He had the thought sometimes that they couldn't see the living people any more than the dead ones. All they saw was their own little person and they considered themselves the sun of the universe. Charity beginning at home and all that jazz.

"We're clear, Amanda," he replied without caring to hide how annoyed he was. "There's little chance I'll see them anyway."

"I know you've tried to corrupt Mark more than once. But I'll set him straight too."

Sheppard chose that moment to appear next to Jared.

"Are we talking about me ? You know how much I love that, sweet cheeks."

The truth was that Sheppard was as likely to use the expression for a woman or a man but, judging from her blush, Amanda took it for herself. Which suited Jared well as the English guy would do his best to embarrass her again and again after that and would probably forget in the process to tease Jared.

"New clients coming up soon, Mark. Take them directly to our best and priciest coffins in the organdy room."

"Of course, love."

"Please, stop calling me that. Tell them they can't let their father rest forever in some badly-built casket that will crack and leak streaming rain in less than two years."

"Darling, please refrain from telling me how to do my job, and I promise I won't try to explain to you how to add two and two. Do we have a deal ?"

Amanda refused to dignify Sheppard with an answer and went back to her books while Mark turned to Jared.

"If these fellows are that rich, maybe I can sell them one of our pretty little chapels or monuments," he said with glee. "It's been a while since we had someone over there."

Jared didn't like that part of the cemetery much. True, the chapels and statues were beautiful, the woods surrounding it peaceful, but the dead hardly mingled, spending their time inside the monuments erected to remind everyone of their past glory and lamenting about the lack of visitors. No amount of coaxing on Jared's part had managed so far to get them to come and mix with the other inhabitants of the graveyard.

"I'm not going to teach you your job either, Mark. Do as you please, and I'll go to work on what I know."

Jared began to walk away, only to realize Sheppard was following him.

"Did you need something else ?"

"Just curious. Will you see that boyfriend of yours again soon ?"

"Why does it matter to you ?"

"I told you, just curious. This boy is good for you. And I can see you're good for him."

Even from someone like Sheppard, Jared felt pleased to hear this.

"He's coming later today, if you really must know."

"Good ! I'll take delivery of the new corpse for you. You make sure you're ready for the visit and forget about the embalming while Ackles is here. The body will still be there afterwards if you want to check my work."

It felt strange to have Sheppard taking care of his love life but the man was right. He had one hour to shower, shave and put on some fresher clothes. He was just being considerate, trying to make sure Jensen's nose wouldn't be offended by his smell after a hard day's work. And Sheppard was licensed and able to do the job just like him, it was only Jared's preference to keep the bodies' preparation for himself usually. Though since Jensen's reappearance, Sheppard had insisted more than once to help lighten up Jared's workload and let him spend some time with the other man. For the first time in his life, Jared had readily agreed.

Decision made, he handed the keys to his lab off to Sheppard and took the stairs to his apartment. He didn't have much in the way of clothes, but he thought he had seen admiration in Jensen's eyes the few times he had worn the blue shirt with the close-fitting jeans. He put them on his bed and undressed on the way to the bathroom.

The shower was delicious, melting away the knots in his muscles as well as the grime and sweat.

"Chad !" he yelled suddenly, "go away !"

The cold draft disappeared almost instantly, leaving Jared alone to prepare for Jensen's arrival. He needed to take the edge off, to calm his libido before Jensen appeared and made him want so much. It was tricky jerking off thinking of the other man right before his visit, for the images he kept in his mind would superimpose with the reality of Jensen right in front of him and make him feel odd, wary of his hands reaching for Jensen without his permission. But meeting him without this precaution was even more dangerous.

So he took his shaft in one hand, his balls in the other. Slowly at first, and then quicker, chasing the thoughts of Jensen doing this very same thing to him, licking him all over and forcing his ass cheeks apart to taste him so profoundly that Jared would spill his seed over immediately. And then Jensen would be in him, coming deep inside, and Jared would be his forever.

Coming down from this high was always bittersweet, the certainty that Jensen would never want him like that too embedded in his mind to think he had any chance of seeing his feelings ever reciprocated.

The heaviness of his heart lightened up though, as soon as the real Jensen appeared, offering him the smile he kept dreaming about since their first encounter. Pleasantries out of the way, they decided to take a walk in the nearby woods Jared had thought about earlier. Maybe Jensen's presence would lure some of the most solitary ghosts out of their hideouts.

They did cross path with some of them, but none came as close as the ghosts living in Jared's favorite parts of the cemetery. None asked Jared about his friend or suggested they might be more.

Jensen had brought a picnic but their plans fell through when the rain began to fall, forcing them to run for shelter. It was late already but Sheppard's car was still there, probably waiting for their new tenant to arrive. Then Jared forgot everything about him and the job as for the first time he invited Jensen to his apartment.

"Do you mind if we eat on the floor, like a true picnic, only inside ?" Jensen asked after a tour of the place.

"I don't, not at all !" Jared answered in a laugh.

He liked that Jensen seemed to feel at home already in his place and that he put his own spin on their dinner together. Jared rarely ate with company, and never would his parents have allowed him to treat a guest this way. Jensen made him feel free and daring, and not even the sight of Chad silently sitting nearby on the old couch to check on them could tamp down his happiness.

Though their meetings had begun with the purpose of talking about Jensen's mother and his horrible upbringing, they didn't spend much of their time together like that anymore. They had timidly but rapidly started to broach other subjects and now each visit confirmed that they were becoming friends. Jensen talked about everything, his job as curator of the city's underground, his friends and coworkers, the books he read, the movies he saw. Jared always feared to look too eager when he questioned him but Jensen never shied away from anything.

"I went to see that movie I told you about with Ty and Misha yesterday."

"Was it good ?"

"Utter crap. All the good parts were in the trailer, the rest was shite, but the guys liked it anyway, just because they could mock it so easily I guess. Next time, I'm taking you with me, so that we'll be able to talk or leave and do something else."

"I'd love that," Jared approved eagerly.

He never went anywhere, never felt the need to, but being with Jensen was too much fun to wonder if he'd really enjoy this. Even meeting Jensen's friends would be nice. Provided they accepted him and didn't try to stop Jensen from seeing him.

"So what about the man who had gotten lost in the sewers last week ?" he remembered suddenly. "Did you find him ?"

"We found _them_ ," Jensen corrected with a smirk. "Turned out there were six of them, trying to get to a "secret" party in the catacombs until they made a wrong turn and found themselves up to their calves in the sewers' smelly water. Even the cops didn't want to let them in their cars once we had them back up in the sun."

Jared laughed. He was intimately acquainted with disturbing smells but used as he was to bodily decomposition, the idea of the sewers' stench seemed much, much worse. And the guys had dived in it, Jensen kept explaining, hoping for a way out, only to find themselves trapped by the metal gate at the end.

"So what did you do with them ?" he wondered.

The smirk morphed into a full grin.

"We used the garden hose of the park above the catacombs entry to sluice them. Took the cops a full hour to get them all done, and the guys weren't happy with the cold water, but at least the smell had abated by the end. I hear the fine is gonna be big, to ensure no other bonehead will try to get down there for a while."

"You think it will work ?"

"Pretty sure it won't, but I have no say in those matters. I'm just trying to protect historical places."

"You love it down there, I can tell."

"I do. I guess it's not far from the feeling you get when you wander through your cemetery. Both are filled with dead people ; yours are singled out and mine all put together in an ossuary, but they're still the final resting places for dead people. I find it soothing, kind of comforting, even."

It would be the perfect time to open up about the apparitions surrounding him but Jared chickened out once again. Jensen might love the serenity of the ossuary, but it was still very different than the constant gossiping and chatter of ghosts, not to mention believing in them in the first place.

Instead, he stood up and went to fetch beer for them both.

They watched TV for a short while but nothing really appealed to them and they began to chat again soon. Jared marveled at the fact that he was hardly aware of the ghosts coming and going randomly, strangely respectful of their privacy, enough anyway that none of them tried to engage conversation with Jared or stay to listen to the one going on.

"It's getting late," Jensen finally pointed out, "and we both have to work tomorrow morning. Thanks for dinner and the great company."

"You did it all, dinner included, so really you have nothing to thank me for."

"Yes, I do ! So much ! Jared, you have no idea how much you've been helping me these past weeks. I'm kind of scared to tell you this, because I don't want to see our meetings end, but I feel so much lighter nowadays, and it's all because you let me talk to you about my mother. Without this, without you, I don't think I would have succeeded in letting go of the hate I felt for her, nor would I get that finding myself on the street so young was an opportunity in the end, however hard it was. It forced me to become independent, to rely only on myself and build the life I wanted. Maybe I'd never have become the man I am, had I stayed at home, if I hadn't studied so hard to get the important job I have in such a big city. So thank you, and I hope one day, if you need me, you'll let me help you in the same way. You've become one of my closest friends, you can ask anything of me, or confide in me whatever you want. I'll be here, just like you've been."

Jensen had once again managed to render Jared speechless but he was stuck on the fact that Jensen wanted to keep seeing him without the excuse of their homemade therapy. He had kind of hoped, seeing how much they had digressed more and more as time went, but it was all clear now.

"Please, don't stop coming," was all he was able to say, but Jensen's answering smile showed he got it and that was all they both needed.

\-------------

_"No need to run and hide, it's a wonderful, wonderful life…"_

First time ever that a ghost – a newly appeared one at that – was singing instead of Jared. Not to mention the rather uplifting words. Either the guy had been a happy one in his previous life and intended to keep up with the happiness now that he had passed away, or life had been too much of a burden not to be glad to get rid of it. Jared kept the question for himself. There would be time to get acquainted and learn about the man.

Instead, Jared waved to him and began to sing too. This was the kind of song to get stuck in your head for hours but he actually liked it so he didn't mind that much.

_"Look at me standing here on my own again, up straight in the sunshine… I need a friend, oh I need a friend to make me happy, not so alone…"_

He didn't even mind when Jensen found him hours later still singing in his office and listened to him long enough to use the words to announce himself.

"One 'friend to make you happy,' present and accounted for !"

"Jensen !" Jared greeted him with a huge smile, standing up to shake his hand.

"In the flesh ! What put you in such a good mood today ?"

"Just a happy dead guy singing."

Jared stopped abruptly. He had never meant to tell Jensen about this or any other apparition.

"I mean," he tried to backpedal, "his family said…"

"I know exactly what you mean," Jensen cut him off, still close enough to land a soothing hand on Jared's shaky shoulder.

"You know ?" Jared repeated, in a small and miserable voice no one could imagine coming from such a big guy as himself.

Jensen's grip on his shoulder got stronger and Jared leaned into him involuntarily.

"You don't have to worry, Jay. I know about all the things you see, just like I knew who your father was long before we really met. And I don't care. Trust me."

Jared couldn't help trembling, fear and hope warring inside him.

"How could you know about my… ability ?"

"Months before my mother died, I came once with a friend who had her father cremated. You didn't see me but something about you called to me and I watched you from afar as you were working – I was in the garden, you were in your lab – talking with the dead person you were embalming, and you were so friendly, so caring. I did my research after that. Maybe I would have been afraid to learn about your past first, but after what I had witnessed there was no way I could think you were anything else than a wonderful human being. Believe me, Jared, there's no one else I admire more than you in this world."

Jared's face had to be red as a lobster considering the heat he felt coming off of himself in waves. Jensen knew, and still he had kept on trying to become friends with him. He didn't consider Jared was a freak or a danger, some crazy dude talking with his hallucinations. He believed in Jared.

"That's why you had your mother buried here ?"

"Yes. I thought maybe you would care for her in a way I couldn't. Maybe you would understand why she was such a bitch to me all my life, what I did to her to explain why she never loved me. And I wanted the chance to talk to you, to become friends with you if I was lucky enough. As it happened, you were so nice to me, but her death had me reeling with memories I didn't want to face again and I felt so bad that I couldn't come back until a long time after the burial."

There was no reason to hide anything anymore.

"I talked to her," he began hesitantly. "More than once. But I don't feel I can really help you. I guess she's one of those persons who take their secrets with them in the tomb. She's still pretty much the same woman you described, bitter and angry, non-communicative unless she needs something."

There, he had said it, laid out the fact that he could only lend an ear to Jensen but nothing beyond that. Knowing Jensen wasn't afraid of him was wonderful already, it would be even better to make sure he realized Jared wasn't a miracle worker.

Jensen remained silent for a little while but Jared somehow knew this wasn't about him. His friend needed the time to process, to accept the fact that he would probably never understand why he couldn't have a loving mother, and Jared wanted to love him all the more to make up for this terrible feeling.

"I'm sorry I can't help you more," he couldn't help concluding, showing he felt like he had let down his friend.

"Don't. This is none of your fault and you owe me nothing, just like you owe nothing to the ghosts of your father's victims. You know that, right ?"

Jared's nod was timid at best.

"You have to know that ! Tell me if I'm wrong but I fear you chose this job to compensate for the terrible acts of your father. It has to be more for you if you keep doing this, keep helping any and all poor soul passing by, including mine."

"You're not a poor soul," Jared protested, thinking 'you're my light in the dark' but unable to voice it.

As if he had heard his thoughts, Jensen stepped closer to him and put his arms around Jared's waist, nestling his face into Jared's shoulder. Jared felt at a loss for a few very long seconds, his brain put on hold, until his arms moved by themselves to lock around Jensen's shoulders. His own face leaned down to find the perfect place to rest against Jensen's neck, and they stayed there, neither of them speaking.

Jensen's scent so close was irresistibly sweet, his body heat so real and different than anything Jared had experienced before. For a moment, nothing else existed in his universe but the feeling of being held and bound to another human being, blood rush swift and noisy in his skull as if to remind him that he was alive, not one of the ghostly inhabitants of the place, and Jared squeezed Jensen tight against him, relieved to feel the answering pressure around his torso that meant the feeling was mutual.

"Jared !" suddenly resonated from two different voices.

Taken by surprise, he hardly stopped himself before he yelled back "Not both at the same time !," shutting up just in time to avoid making a fool of himself when he realized one of the voices he had heard was Chad's.

The other one belonged to Amanda, and it was high-pitched with anger and worry.

Not without difficulty, especially when Jensen detached from him to listen to the accountant and everything in Jared wanted to get back to those strong arms' grip and shun the rest the world, he managed to make a coherent whole of the two speeches and asked for what he had missed.

"The police, here ? But why ?"

"Why don't you come with me ?" Detective Stuart suggested as he came in behind Amanda, "and I'll explain everything to you at the precinct."

Jared had seen the policeman a few times since he had begun to practice as a mortician and he had never found if the man was just aloof or a real misanthrope. All spruced up day after day to show off his importance like a campaigning politician, smile too bright and fake, Jared never had to complain about him personally but whatever the police wanted with him, the fact that Stuart was leading the case and wished to hear him at the precinct didn't bode well.

"Why do you need to take him there ?" Jensen intervened. "You can ask all your questions here."

"And you are ?" Stuart answered with a sneer.

"Jensen Ackles, Jared's friend."

Sheppard arrived at Jared's office door, crowded by more and more ghosts coming to see what the fuss was about.

"Well, Mr. Ackles," the cop continued, "unless you're also Mr. Padalecki's lawyer, this is none of your business."

"Anything potentially harmful to Jared is my business, Detective… ?"

"Stuart. James Patrick Stuart."

"Detective Stuart. Well, I'm sure you know Timothy Omundson. He happens to be my attorney as well as a very good friend of mine. He'll make it a point to assist Jared if you have any question for him."

"Jensen !" Jared hissed, "I have no money to pay a lawyer, and I don't need one."

"Don't worry about the money, Jared, Tim will do this as a favor for you and me, and you always need a lawyer when the police show up at your door unannounced and want to drag you out. Please, let me take care of hiring him for you."

Jared had no chance to resist Jensen's pleading eyes.

"Okay, call him."

"Thanks, I'll do it right away. Detective, Jared will join you at the precinct with his lawyer as soon as possible."

Stuart extended a hand behind his back under the bottom of his very expensive and very nicely tailored jacket to get his handcuffs.

"I had hoped to resolve the situation gently," he said in an unctuous and falsely desolate tone, "but in this case, I find myself obliged to take drastic measures. Jared Padalecki, you're under arrest for organ trafficking. You have the right to remain silent…"

Jared was so shocked he just turned around and let Stuart put the cuffs on his wrists. He could hear people talking around him, Jensen urgently calling his friend on his cell phone, Amanda shrieking that Jared was a shameful sinner and that she knew nothing about his misdeeds, the ghosts appalled to see him condemned for a crime they knew he hadn't committed. Only Sheppard kept unusually quiet, slipping away before Stuart pushed Jared out of the room to take him to his car while he finished voicing his Miranda rights.

Jared was still mostly confused by the time they arrived at the police station. He had spent the whole ride trying to make sense of Stuart's accusations but he couldn't think of any reason why someone would suspect him of organ trafficking. Embalming had nothing to do with this. Either he had to perform the necessary acts for the bodies to be viewed, or he simply bathed and dressed them. Draining blood and fluids and replacing them with embalming chemicals didn't lead to organ removing. Throughout his career, he had had many cases of autopsied corpses coming to his table but the organs were already removed by a doctor and Jared's job was to make it look like nothing had happened. Sure, he had a good understanding of anatomy, but he was no surgeon and he knew that most of the organs, by the time they made it to the funeral home, would be unfit for transplant for their owners had been dead for too long already.

Before everything else, he respected the dead too much to harm their former corporeal shell. Even though he heartily encouraged organ donation to save lives, it could only happen with the full consent of the deceased.

Stuart led him to a colleague in uniform who took his fingerprints and photographs of him in front of the kind of chart seen in movies to show the arrested person's height. Once this was done, Jared was taken to an interrogation room. On the way there, he heard his name called from the other side of the precinct and felt incredibly relieved to find that Jensen had followed him.

"I talked to Tim," Jensen told him loudly to be heard even as the policeman dragged Jared away, "he's on his way. You won't be here long and I won't leave without you."

The cop pushed him into the room and sat him down. Cuffed to the table, Jared was left to wait, wondering why this whole procedure was necessary. It seemed to him that such treatment should be reserved for a hardened criminal who had already committed murders, which meant he was probably once again reaping the dubious benefits of his father's actions. He couldn't imagine how terrified he would have been, had any of this happened before he met Jensen. The dead people roaming this place were not as carefree as the ones back at the cemetery. They were desperate souls and three of them had already threatened Jared in the short hour he had spent here. He wasn't afraid of them, but it did tell him a lot about the way they had been treated back when they were still alive, sitting in the very chair Jared was now occupying.

He had to wait another little while before Stuart reappeared, assisted by a fellow detective named Bancroft. The new man was smiling and just as friendly as Stuart played the part of the haughty bad cop. They both sat opposite Jared and Stuart displayed photos of corpses in front of him while Bancroft clicked on the recorder.

"Please state your name, surname and qualification for the record."

"Jared Padalecki," he replied, turning towards the mic, "mortician, director of the Last Rest Of The Lonely Funeral Home."

He hadn't chosen the name, but it had certainly called to him when he had searched for a cemetery and funeral home to buy and look after.

"Do you practice embalming in your trade ?"

"Absolutely, that's part of my job."

"What about surgery ?"

"I'm not a doctor, nor a surgeon. My knowledge of anatomy is very, very limited next to these medical specialists."

"Do you recognize these cadavers, Mr. Padalecki ?" Stuart directed his attention towards the photographs.

Jared took the time to study each picture before he nodded.

"Yes. The first one is Jim Beaver, a 56-year-old man deceased of a heart attack at St. Joachim and who has been cremated at my funeral home. His urn is located in a vault in the graveyard. The second one is Felicia Day, a 28-year-old woman whose death was caused by an acute seizure disorder. She was also cremated and now rests in another vault close to Beaver's. Just like the third one, Lisa Berry, a 33-year-old woman who died in a car crash provoked by a drunk driver. They're all resting in the peace they deserve."

He didn't add that he had become very fond of the three of them in their deaths. It was only the fact that, as all ghosts, they had ditched pretty much all pretense of regulated social interaction and appeared when they wanted to, not one second more, that prevented him from calling them friends.

"You're incredibly accurate," Bancroft remarked with another encouraging smile. "Did you know those people before their death ?"

"No. I spend pretty much all my time at work, and I also live there. I don't have much interaction with the outside world except for the people coming to the funeral home."

"What about your dedicated friend ?" Stuart asked with a smirk.

"Jensen ? I met him after he lost his mother. He's a wonderful man who needed a friend and I'm proud to say I was here for him, just like he's here for me today."

He felt the two detectives were getting annoyed with him and his guileless answers. Even Bancroft lost his smile and became more cutting.

"Did you work on these bodies or not ?"

"In fact, no," Jared remembered. "I only proceeded to the cremation. My employee, Mr. Sheppard, who is also a licensed embalmer, tended to the bodies in my place."

"Why is that ?"

Jared stumbled for the first time in his answer and he saw the detectives leaning closer, as if certain that now was the time when Jared would incriminate himself or confess to bloody murder.

"I wanted time to be with Jensen," he admitted with a fiery blush, "and Mark was kind enough to offer to do this so that I could be freed."

"So you're saying that Mark Sheppard operated on these three cases, without your supervision or control ?"

The door opened as Stuart was speaking and a tall man with long brownish-grey hair and a pricy suit came in.

"Actually, gentlemen, my client doesn't say anything anymore without his lawyer's say-so and only in his presence. Would you please step out so that he and I can have a little chat ? Thank you very much."

With a matching frown, the cops gathered the pictures and left. Jared waved his fingers to show why he couldn't shake the offered hand of his lawyer and Omundson called the cops back.

"Is this really necessary ?" he asked.

Without a word, Bancroft came back to detach the cuffs from the table but he left them closed on Jared's wrists.

Omundson sighed before he turned again to Jared and this time shook his hand.

"Mr. Omundson, thanks for helping me."

"Call me Tim. Glad to meet you, Jared, Jensen told me you were someone very special and very dear to him, and I promised him I'd take good care of you."

The other man sat next to Jared with a pleased smile at the sight of Jared's obvious happiness with Jensen's comment.

"Do you know what they accuse me of ? I can't imagine what they have against me."

"I did read your file. There have been accusations made by one undisclosed witness that three cadavers, since then cremated and kept in your cemetery, were collected for organ theft, even though the families of the deceased refused to let the hospital harvest what was still usable ; the organs could only have been stolen at the funeral home as the bodies were transported straight there. Your name was not explicitly mentioned but, as the director and principal embalmer, you become the logical culprit."

"But that's insane. As I said to the cops, I'm not a surgeon. I have too much respect for dead bodies, and I didn't even do the job in these three cases. I wouldn't have performed complete embalming on bodies we knew were to be cremated, so I'm sure Sheppard didn't either. He's not the kind of man to work for no profit."

Tim watched Jared intently, as if to force his thoughts into his mind.

"Then perhaps you should consider that there was indeed an intended profit. Black market pays a huge amount of money for vital organs. Perfect example of opportunity making the thief."

Jared looked at him, dumbfounded, until the truth hit him.

He had been so grateful for Sheppard's help and now he learned it had all been pretense and false sympathy, Mark's way to take advantage of the situation to make it easier for himself, go about his traffic and make money behind Jared's back. Money twice dirty, for the theft it had come from and the fact that Jared doubted those organs were still transplantable anyway.

And yet he couldn't muster enough outrage and resentment to look or feel really angry. Even if he was to go to jail for someone else's bad deeds, it had given him Jensen, the best thing to ever happen in his morose life.

The lawyer leaned closer and patted Jared's hand in a gesture of comfort, unaware of the ghost doing the same thing at the same time.

"The question now," Tim continued in a kind tone, "is how do we prove that Sheppard did it and that you had no inkling about his doings ?"

\-------------

Intent on discovering what had happened to his boy, Chad hopped into Jared's boyfriend's vehicle – not without a bit of trepidation he could attribute in part to the fact that the car was pretty nice but mostly, if he was honest with himself, because he was leaving the graveyard for the first time in over a century.

As soon as Ackles showed him the way to the police station, Chad abandoned him to park his car and found Jared, following him everywhere without revealing his presence so as not to disturb his friend and make him look more suspect to those idiot flatfoots. How someone could imagine Jared would ever do such a thing was beyond him ! It seemed that, just like in his time, becoming a policeman required a degree in stupidity and narrow thinking.

His anger towards Stuart and Bancroft took a backseat when he learned about Sheppard's trafficking. He couldn't care less about the organs stolen, but using Jared as a cover, playing the part of the friendly colleague and taking advantage of Jared's feelings for Jensen… these were the acts he couldn't forgive. Jensen and the lawyer would take good care of his boy ; Sheppard didn't know what was coming to him !

Now that he knew how to orientate himself, Chad didn't need Jensen's car anymore to get back home. He willed himself back to the graveyard and there he was, instantly going for Sheppard's office, only to relocate to Jared's when he sensed him there.

Chad regretted that, as did most ghosts, he avoided Jared's lab like the plague, allowing for the traffic to take place without anyone having a clue. He promised himself he would get over his distaste in the future and make sure none of Jared's employees tried to use the boy's artlessness and kindness to their advantage. But first he was going to make an example of Sheppard.

The slimy bastard definitely knew it was time to make himself scarce, packing in a hurry for a swift departure. Chad had frequented enough crooks in his life to look for the money he had probably stolen already, and yes, here it was, the proof of an ongoing money transfer from one bank to another on this computer box he had never really tried to understand. Yet, it was easy to concentrate and apply all his force to clicking the 'cancel the operation' button, or whatever that thing was called.

Sheppard was none the wiser. He kept busy around the room, trying to erase any and all proof that Jared had done it all legally, paper shredder overworking until Chad pulled the plug.

Sheppard shook the device in vain. As the wire followed his movements, he saw with surprise the plug lying on the floor and bent to push it back into the socket. His eyes grew comically wide when he watched it getting unplugged again thanks to Chad's invisible hand.

The thief drew back, not scared enough yet but getting there.

Eyes now darting everywhere, Sheppard took in the office, obviously searching for the person he thought was messing with him, any logical explanation.

"Show yourself !" he commanded.

And Chad thought why not.

"As you wish," he said, concentrating once more to become visible.

He was not really dressed to appear to someone for the first time but whatever. Sheppard could take a little surprise sight of naked man bits and Chad didn't really give a fuck if he offended his delicate sensibility.

Sheppard stumbled backwards, almost falling on his ass when he met an unexpected chair. Chad didn't move to help, watching the man with a smile he hoped to be frightening enough.

"Who… who are you ?" Sheppard stuttered, white as chalk.

"The one and only Chad Murray. I fancy myself a righter of wrongs, a modern-time musketeer, out to vindicate and free his best friend."

"Why are you naked ?" Sheppard asked without looking an inch below Chad's chin, as if his naked state was somehow worse than the fact he had appeared from thin air.

"Not my fault, man. Ask that to the guys who buried me."

He hadn't chosen to die in the buff and none of the ghosts he had been rubbing shoulders with ever since had ever really complained, nor sweet Jared who had only been mad on his behalf at the way he had been treated both in life and death, abandoned by everyone and tossed away between four planks without even his pants on. No wonder the man was a friend when he was the only one to ever show him respect.

Sheppard went even whiter.

"You mean you're… what… a ghost ? An apparition ?"

"That's exactly what I mean ! Is it really so surprising in such a place ?"

"I don't believe you. Ghosts aren't real. This is some hologram. I'm sure I can pass my hand through you."

Sheppard tried, and his hand did go through Chad's body.

"That was really uncalled for, man ! I haven't even insulted you yet !"

"I'm out of here, and you can't do anything about it."

"Really ? I have no idea what a hologram is, and I don't care if you won't believe that I'm a ghost, but do you really think I would appear here in front of you if I had no way to make you do what I want ?"

Chad was getting pissed. Really, really pissed.

"You're not going anywhere until I tell you so. You see, Sheppard… I can call you Mark, right, Mark ? – so you see, Mark, I've been remiss in protecting my boy. This place has been a haven for me and my immaterial friends, but most of all to our lovely Jared. There's no way I'm going to let you ruin it all with your greediness. Not when Jared's finally found love and happiness."

Sheppard lifted his chin up and tried to look as if he wasn't afraid.

"And how do you think you're gonna do that, genius ? You're just a mass of unsubstantial atoms. You have no power over this world."

Chad wondered if he really had to remind the man of the plug but he decided to go forward.

"You know, pal, I'm of the live and let live philosophy. Your little traffic is of no interest or consequence to me, but the line was drawn the moment you hurt Jared. You targeted my boy, hid your misdeeds by tarnishing his good name, and I can't allow that."

"His good name ?!" Sheppard laughed. "Are you for real ? The son of a murderer ! Everyone knows Padalecki junior is just as crazy as daddy dearest. No one will ever believe he's not the mastermind and the culprit, not with such a legacy."

"You might be right. But _I_ know this is not true. _I_ know you did it all. Pretty sure this was your plan all along and that you only came to work here because of the cover Jared would provide unwittingly."

"And who cares ? Even if what you say is true, even if you can make yourself visible for that biased detective too, he'll never trust you. He's one narrow-minded son of a bitch and you have no proof."

"You're right again. I do have something going for me, though."

"What's that ?" Sheppard asked, incredulous.

"Me. I never sleep. I can appear anywhere, anytime. I'm already dead so good luck getting rid of little ol' me. Good luck stopping me from stalking you night and day. Good luck messing with my friends under my watch. And if that's not enough…"

"What ? You're going to sing to me all night long, like the ghost in that old movie for hopeless romantic teenagers, until I cave and exonerate your pretty boy ? Please ! If you think you can scare me off that way, you're sadly mistaken. You wouldn't scare a first grader looking like you do, wiener flopping in the wind. You'd make a great scarecrow, and that's it."

Chad thought maybe it was time to show instead of telling since the guy kept resisting his warning. He didn't even need to concentrate this time when he pushed Sheppard against the nearby wall and held him there.

In a fraction of a second, he came nose to nose with Sheppard and closed his hands around the man's neck, demonstrating that immaterial didn't mean impotent when he squeezed with all the power of his mind and blocked the Briton's airway.

Sheppard tried to free himself but he couldn't grasp the hands that weren't really there. His panting wheezes turned into something akin to near death rattle as the oxygen stopped flowing to his brain, flailing without coordination in a futile attempt to get away.

"Will you go to the police and tell them what you've done ?" Chad inquired.

Sheppard nodded as frantically as he was able.

"Will you explain that you used Jared's reputation for your own gain, that he has absolutely nothing to do with your dirty business ?"

Redder and redder, Sheppard approved by tapping through Chad's arm several times, ending up hitting himself.

"Will you stop your illegal activities and let the dead rest as is their right ?"

"Yes," Sheppard exhaled with what seemed to be his last breath, eyes already glazed and unfocused.

Chad relaxed his concentration to let go of him, and the man stumbled to the ground.

"You're going now," Chad ordered. "You take with you whatever proof you need and I want you on the way to the precinct in the next ten minutes. I'll ride with you, to make sure you drive straight to the police station and that you don't try to disappear – which would be really stupid now that I have your scent 'cause I can find you anywhere you hide."

That last bit was an outright lie but Sheppard didn't need to know it.

Chad watched as the thief collected himself from the floor and righted his clothes.

"Have you destroyed everything in the box ?" Chad asked, thinking that the words and digits stored in it might be Jared's best chance to prove his innocence.

Sheppard would have looked at him just the same, had he suddenly grown a second head. Chad indicated the computer thing and his sentence seemed to make sense.

"No," Sheppard replied, "I didn't erase all the files on Jared's laptop. Damn bitch Amanda bent my ear for eons with her sanctimonious balderdash ! She was this close to a nervous breakdown and she clung to me for so long that she prevented me from leaving earlier."

Chad couldn't fault him for dissing the annoying Miss Tapping – her speeches were all poppycock and hokum, so boring that no ghost spent more than a few seconds at a time in her office for fear of sinking into a lethargy deeper than death – save for the fact that the Englishman had been tapping that ass for a while, pun definitely intended and very popular among the ghost population of the funeral home since Chad had made it first, no matter what Little Rob and his dog might pretend.

Jared had no idea about his employees' affair and Chad was sure he wouldn't care, but maybe the boy would be glad to know he hadn't been the only one Sheppard had fooled and taken advantage of.

Chad watched as Sheppard bustled about, providing poking encouragements whenever the other man stopped working fast enough.

When finally Sheppard had printed enough documents and put them all in a folder, Chad pushed him out of his chair towards the outside, right to the parking lot and his car, and ordered him to drive to the city.

Chad sat in the back. It felt quite nice to be chauffeured around. To be the master right now, the one calling the shots, instead of the hard worker he had been back in his time.

"Can you tell me how you're doing all this ?" Sheppard asked as he was driving. "Getting control over matter when you're dead and immaterial ?"

Chad looked at him funny.

"Dream on, man. Do you really think I'm gonna put that knowledge into such vile hands ?! It's enough that you know it can be done. You'll have to figure it out on your own."

Sheppard would never get it anyway. Someone like him would never understand that the key was to love or care for someone else enough to be able to pass through the curtains separating the different planes of existence, and Chad was pretty sure it went both ways.

The conversation died again after that. Chad could see Sheppard was searching furiously for any idea that would help him get out of this mess, and he reminded him with more painless-but-firm poking that there was nothing Sheppard could do to fight him. Every poke had Sheppard unconsciously bringing a hand to the red marks on his neck below his shirt's collar and tie, as if to protect himself.

The unfriendly boosts continued even though Chad made himself invisible again as they walked to the precinct. Just making sure Sheppard wouldn't change his mind at the last second and try to run away. Jared was in there, worried about his future and tormented by two morons. It was more than time to set him free.

Maybe the last poke was a bit more forceful than needed, sending Sheppard half-tumbling right into the reception desk where a not very pleasant cop built like a brick shithouse gave him the stink eye. His badge read A. Paunovic.

"Watch it !" the uniform said before he remembered he was supposed to welcome people and help them. "What do you want ?"

"I'm here to…" Sheppard started slowly, forcing each word out, "turn myself in and free an innocent man."

"Really ?" the cop answered, a predatory grin taking over his feature without making him any more approachable.

"Yes," Sheppard hesitantly went on. "Your colleagues have arrested my boss, Jared Padalecki, for a small mistake I actually committed.

"A small mistake, can you imagine that ? What's your name ?"

"Sheppard. Mark Sheppard. And it was really nothing more than a slight error in judgement."

"Save it. I'm sure your Brit accent makes the girls swoon but you're gonna have to do more than that with the suits. Wilkins, come and replace me. I need to take this guy to a detective."

"Okay, Paunovic."

Chad followed them as the huge policeman – Chad had been so proud of his height one century ago, and now he felt dwarfed by all these fellows, beginning with Jared – closed his big hand around Sheppard's biceps and used the tight grip to move him further into the precinct, right to an interrogation room. Chad stayed until he saw the culprit was guarded and unable to run away, and then went to find Jared.

He didn't have to float around much before he saw him, still in the room he had left him in, the lawyer arguing with the cops until the officer interrupted them. The mention of new evidence had them up and across the precinct in two seconds. Chad was pretty sure they were expecting proof against Jared, not something to exonerate their favorite suspect. And he was proven right as their faces turned red and furious with each self-condemning word uttered by Sheppard, each document vindicating Jared.

They tried to get the thief to say he was admitting to this under duress. They suggested he was paid by Jared to take the blame, but the evidence was irrefutable and Sheppard particularly adamant that he was the only one at fault.

They had to let Jared go.

The cops were not half as quick to get back to Jared's room and free him. They warned him to stay close by in case they might need to make further enquiries, to which the lawyer answered that everyone was always welcome at the funeral home, one way or another.

His sense of humor was not equally appreciated.

Jensen joined them immediately when he saw Jared coming out, handcuffs-free and smiling. He took the boy by surprise, offering a hug Jared could only melt into, holding him in his arms to reassure himself just as much as to show Jared that everything was right now and they were back together. Jensen's face was lit up by the most relieved and thankful smile Chad had ever seen.

If Chad didn't know better, he would have sworn that the smile was directed at him.

\-------------

When they finally managed to let go of each other, Jared tried to thank Jensen for his help and for staying by his side, but Jensen just waved it off, saying friends were always there to help and sustain. Jared wanted to believe him but he had no such experience. Jensen was his first friend.

Still smiling, Jensen took his arm and led him to his car to drive him back home. Jared felt the events of the day finally weighing on him and the drive went mostly silent. Soon, his eyes closed and all he could do was fight against sleep.

He must have lost the battle at some point, images of the cops and Jensen's hug mixed up in his mind, as he was gently shaken to wake up and he found himself watched closely by Jensen. They had arrived at the funeral home, Jensen's car parked in front of the entry.

"I'm so sorry," Jared said, rubbing his eyes with his fists like a kid. "You go to all this trouble for me and I thank you by falling asleep."

"I didn't mind. On the contrary, I'm glad you feel at ease enough with me to let go. If I was such a good friend, I'd take it to mean you need to sleep it all off and I wouldn't ask you for anything else."

"What do you mean ?" Jared asked as he sat straighter, ready for anything as long as it meant spending more time with Jensen.

"Do you have something to do tonight ? Somewhere to be ?"

"No, just going home and find a way to forget this all happened. Why ?"

Jensen took his closest hand between his and brought it to his lips.

"I'd like to take you somewhere, show you a place I know you will love."

Jared was too stunned to think properly.

Jensen had kissed his hand.

"Where ?" he wondered, though the answer didn't really matter to him.

"It's a surprise. A good one, I promise. Will you come with me ?"

"Okay," Jared agreed, still dazed.

"Then I'll be back by seven to drive you. We'll have dinner there."

"Should I dress up ?"

"No. You're perfect as you are, always."

Jared blushed, thinking that if a few hours in an interrogation room with unpleasant cops was the price to pay to have Jensen talk to him like that – and kiss his hand – he would do it again in a heartbeat.

"I'll wait for you," he said and then turned to leave, to make time pass faster and be with Jensen again sooner, excited already at the prospect of spending time alone in new scenery with the man he loved.

"Jared !" Jensen called him back.

He didn't know how it happened, really. One moment he was looking at Jensen to ask what he needed, the next their lips touched and Jared felt himself melting against the other man's body, so hot and firm. They kissed and Jared understood why it was so good to be alive, what it meant to touch and be touched by the one you loved and desired. They kissed until the sound of another car driving by towards the parking lot woke them up from their marvelous trance.

"I'll see you at seven," Jensen repeated huskily, forehead against Jared's as they tried to catch their breath.

"Will there be more of those ?"

"Plenty more," Jensen answered in a chuckle.

This time, he let Jared out of the car and drove slowly to the end of the entrance alley. Waving his hand outside by the open window, he waited for Jared to wave back before he turned onto the main road, back to the city.

\-------------

Jensen was back at seven as promised – well, seven oh two, and it was enough time for Jared to worry that he might have changed his mind after all.

But then Jensen was there, taking him in his arms again for a long, marvelous kiss that had Jared forgetting everything that wasn't the feeling of his love against him and his hands on his back, the lips and tongue taking possession of him, Jared only too happy to offer himself without restraint.

It didn't last long enough – it would never be – before Jensen ended the kiss and asked if he was ready to leave.

"So, will you tell me where you're taking me this time ?"

"Nope, still a surprise."

"Can I try and guess ?"

"You can do anything you want."

Jensen opened the passenger door for Jared to sit in the car. He felt more alert now, and not on the verge of falling asleep after the short nap he had indulged in to make sure he wouldn't be too tired during the evening with Jensen, but also to stop angsting about it. So he kept on asking Jensen as soon as the other man was back in the car, sitting next to Jared.

"You said we were going to dinner ?"

"Did I ?"

"Yes, you did. So, is it a restaurant ?"

"Maybe in another universe."

"So not a restaurant."

"Masterful inference."

"You're no fun."

"I thought I was. Keep guessing."

The rest of the trip went the same way, Jared proposing more and more foolish kinds of places and enjoying Jensen's sarcastic response and the banter easily flowing between them.

Jensen drove them to the city, in the heart of the old quarters where centuries-old buildings referred to a faraway past and a rich history. Jared hadn't met many ghosts from that time, most of them luckily enough gone beyond the next veil to enjoy another kind of consciousness, but the few he had crossed path with had opened his eyes upon the need and interest of knowing the past.

Leaving the car in an underground parking garage, Jensen led them upstairs to ground level.

"We need to walk for a short while."

Soon they were in front of a nondescript door for which Jensen had the key to open and close behind them. And Jared suddenly understood.

"Are these the catacombs ?" he asked in wonder.

He had always wanted to visit the place but most of it was closed to the public to make sure nothing would get deteriorated. Of course, knowing the curator – being his boyfriend, Jared thought, still a lot giddy about it – was the surest way to get invited.

"Welcome to my world," Jensen told him with a sweet smile that made those words more than the all-purpose sentence it could have been.

Jensen took the lead, showing Jared the way to the catacombs down a lengthy spiral staircase that brought them several feet under the surface to one end of the old quarry that had been transformed and made into the tunnels and rooms holding the bones and memory of many previous inhabitants of the city. On the huge carved lintel above the entryway to the first tunnel, a panel read "Stop ! This is the empire of death."

Jared went in first, not fazed in the slightest, just all the more interested.

The place was enchanted, Jared's very own palace of 1001 nights offered by his handsome prince. The ossuary was huge, the depository of so many bones that Jared was surprised to see few ghosts in comparison. The tunnels, large enough for four or five men to stand next to each other easily, were decorated with mosaics and bone sculptures, skulls disposed in such a way that some formed a heart, others an arrow, or some symbols Jared wasn't able to decipher. Few mandibles were left but the skulls didn't seem lacking anyway and Jared could still feel the soft energy radiating from what had once been parts of the bodies of women and men just as alive as he was now.

They passed exquisitely ornamented rooms. Several models of the most sanctified cities of the world had been built by some anonymous artists whose talent belonged in museums. Painted vaults hardly visible in the diffuse light competed with more modern graffiti drawn at eye level, both styles of art offering their visions of the afterlife. Small panels located the tunnels they were passing through with the names of the streets right above, while bigger ones shared some pieces of wisdom gathered through the centuries, quotes in many languages that Jensen translated for Jared. And everywhere, bones had been piled to create walls and pillars.

Any place his eyes rested, Jared felt his deep connection with the dead sharpened and rekindled. Ghosts saluted and welcomed him as an old friend, the prodigal son back at last from his meandering.

Jensen took his hand and led him through another maze-like ensemble of corridors to a vast room with a lower ceiling that had been lit before their arrival by a multitude of old-style torches burning up on the walls every six feet or so. But beyond the particular atmosphere of the place, Jared felt more at home than ever as he looked at the few complete skeletons and the myriad of skulls arranged in lines covering each and every shelf carved into the rock, uncountable and so vivid.

Jared moved closer to a marble slab to read the inscription marking the entrance of the room.

_"Oh Death ! is it true that our fortunate souls_  
_Have naught to fear from your ugly fury ?_  
_And that the cruel moment that takes us far from day_  
_Changes only the place where your victims stay ?_  
_Even after the second your funeral wings_  
_Will have me entombed in your blackness_  
_I will live ! Pleasant hope that I love to entertain !"_

The words resonated deep for Jared, who started when Jensen spoke next to him.

"This is where I come when I feel alone and depressed," Jensen told him in a quiet, reverent voice.

Jared took in the sight, the place busy with lots of ghosts attracted by the special energy spreading around, before he turned back to Jensen, growing smile acknowledging their kinship.

"I knew you understood !"

"More than you think, Jared. I don't see dead people like you, nor am I able to converse with them. But I do see auras, and even dead people have one."

It made so much sense.

"That's why you knew I was talking with a ghost the first time you saw me ! It was nothing really new to you."

Jensen smiled.

"Exactly. I couldn't mistake you for some crazy guy talking with the voices in his head, not when I could see the shape of the dead person close to you, and how their aura's color subtly evolved in time with your discussion."

"So when you come here…"

"I know I'm not alone. This was the place I took refuge in when I left home. I was so lost, starved and cold. And then I came upon the catacombs. I just followed the colors down and made myself at home, taking care of the bones. The previous curator found me some time later. He fed me and offered me a roof, all but tamed me in fact, and then agreed to let me help him down here as long as I kept going to school. That's why I decided to work hard to be appointed curator of the sewers and catacombs when he retired. It had become my true home. Other people with my ability would have been afraid to watch those moving halos closing around them, but I wasn't. I felt protected and finally cared for. Enchanted. The display was so beautiful !"

"Not as beautiful as you, I'm sure."

Jared couldn't be certain in the wan light but it seemed he had made Jensen blush. He didn't even know what had possessed him to say something like that, such a cliché, but it was no less true for it. He wished he could see Jensen among the multicolored halos.

"Do I have one ? An aura, I mean," he wondered.

"Of course. One of the most beautiful light blue colors I have ever seen, spiritual and solid. Encompassing. It doesn't shrink on you like some lonely people's auras do, turning into themselves to hide from the rest of the world. Yours is bigger every time I see it, so open and giving."

Jared took Jensen's hands in his.

"And what does yours look like ?"

"A bit greener, but it resembles yours a lot. We match, Jared, and it's been increasingly difficult to leave you every time we've met. Our auras have mingled and they want to merge definitely. How do you feel about it ?"

"I say I love you, and I want to join with you in all the ways we can."

With Jared's hand still in his possession, Jensen led him to the other side of the room separated by a skull pillar to find that the place had obviously been prepared for the both of them.

Candles mounted on painted stoneware candelabras shined everywhere, bones and skulls glowing with their light so much that Jared felt for an instant that Jensen had made the auras visible for him. A table dressed for two occupied the bone wall to the right, while the left side was filled by a big bed that seemed to call to Jared immediately with its white comforter and fluffy pillows.

"We don't have to do anything you don't desire," Jensen insisted. "But I really wanted to bring you here and show you my universe, spend some time here with you. Even if it's only to eat and sleep, I'll be the happiest man in the world to spend time with you in my home."

Jared never had any doubt about his feelings for Jensen, and this evening had just reinforced his need to be with him. There was no hesitation in his voice when he answered.

"I want to do everything with you. If you'll have me. And this place… I don't know how to tell you what it means to me that you invited me here."

"Maybe you can show me," Jensen proposed with a lopsided grin that Jared decided immediately to dispel.

Their lips met with all the fervor of men who had waited for a long time and wanted this more than anything. Jared quickly realized that their earlier kiss that had felt so great had been a mere rehearsal, infinitely pleasant but devoid of a good part of the passion they could now let loose. Tongues danced and hands roamed, Jensen pushing Jared towards the bed with a steadfast persistence that had them tumbling onto the comforter in a few seconds.

"Tell me now if you want to eat first," Jensen said reluctantly, "because I don't want to stop once I have you all naked and offered to my every whim."

"What about my whims ?" Jared asked as his hands slid under Jensen's shirt to make sure he would not lag behind.

"They're all for the taking. Tell me what you want."

"Want to feel you inside me," he whispered, and then kissed Jensen again quickly.

Jackets and shirts went first, closely followed by shoes and socks. Between heated caresses and sloppy, hurried kisses, pants and underwear disappeared quickly enough to leave them naked, offered to the other's eyes.

Jensen had explained the temperature remained at a constant level all year long in the catacombs. It wasn't that high but Jared never felt cold when Jensen's body slid along his and his hands traveled everywhere, taking possession of him.

They turned in time with the caresses they exchanged, one on top and then the other as they explored and learned what gave pleasure to their new lover. Jared felt bold enough to lean and take Jensen's cock in his mouth, offering the best blow job he could to prepare him for their lovemaking. Jensen extended his arms so that his hands could play with Jared's hair, his moans the best proof that Jared was doing something right.

"I'm feeling very hungry suddenly," Jared said with his most serious face as he sat back over Jensen's thighs, his head spinning with the taste of Jensen's skin.

But he couldn't keep the charade for long and laughed with delight at the sight of Jensen's unhappy resignation.

"Hungry for you," he finished.

Jensen reacted immediately, turning the tables on Jared and getting him on his back, legs apart on each side of Jensen's hips. Jared couldn't help blushing but he loved the feeling of baring it all for his love, opening himself entirely to Jensen's power and feelings, ready to welcome him inside and never let go.

"You know this is it for me ?" he needed to clarify.

Maybe it wasn't the best moment for this kind of talk, a mood killer in the middle of hot sex, but Jensen had to know that Jared was nothing but deadly serious.

"You're the love of my life," he continued, "and I want to spend it with you. My death too."

Jensen leaned down to kiss him with a tenderness Jared would never have imagined from one man to another.

"We're on the same page, Jared. You're my love, the one I want to share my life with till the end of times."

They stopped talking from then on as the heat rose again, showing with touches rather than words the incredible depth of their feelings. Curious fingers traced his abs and his nipples, a hungry tongue tasted the slit of his cock, and Jared keened, ready for more. In a move he didn't even see coming, Jensen swallowed his cock to the root, sucking him with abandon and rendering him crazy with need, before he let his fingers trace a path from his heavy balls to his hole.

The penetration was smooth and fierce at the same time, no sign of hesitation nor painful forcing of his entrance from Jensen. Jared relished that first moment. He pushed on the fingers moving inside him, encouraging them to go further and more of them to play at the same time. Jensen obliged and Jared arched off of the bed when his prostate sent him a message of pleasure so good it was all he could do to open up his legs even more and beg Jensen to go on.

"Jared," Jensen said with fervor, "I swear I'm clean and I haven't ever done it with anyone else without a condom. But with you I want the full experience, nothing between us."

He was clean too, and he wanted Jensen with the same over-the-top need.

"You ! Come in me, take me !" he begged again and again, and Jensen did.

Eye to eye, focus all about his internal sensations and his partner's pleasure, Jared keened as Jensen pushed his way inside him with his cock. The feeling was the same he got from Jensen in all their interactions, sweetness and confidence, mastery and kindness. Applied to sex, it was more than heady. Jensen's lips never left him, be it for a kiss or a pretty deep suction that would leave trace for all to see. Show who Jared belonged to. Make Jared putty in his hands.

He had been so alone all these past years. So far from caring human beings who could have touched him and made him feel good about it. Feeling Jensen's hands on him was nothing short of overwhelming and he wanted it to last, wanted them to learn his body by heart, to caress him so much that the contours of his torso or his ass would be engraved in his memory, branded in his own skin to make it impossible for him to enjoy anyone else's contact, and then touch him again to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything, any place, any texture.

"Touch me," he begged again every few minute, showing Jensen that his touch was always welcome.

One hand closed around the right globe of his ass in a smooth caress, arm pushing Jared's leg apart, and he felt Jensen gently sliding out of him, the effort of taking things slowly clearly visible on his face, but Jared would have none of it. He laced his legs around Jensen's waist and used the grip to help with Jensen's penetration, forcing himself onto the hard cock and delighting in the pain/pleasure as the proof that his loneliness was over.

Jensen's masterful thrusts established their bond, irrevocable and unlimited. Each slide in, each bump against his prostate deepened it until Jared didn't know if he was crying because of the incredible pleasure or the feeling of belonging at last to someone and being loved unconditionally.

The final moments passed in a blur of prodigious sensations, coherent words and demands replaced by senseless grunts on both sides until Jensen's rhythm faltered and Jared felt him spill inside him. Jared followed him soon enough, vision whiting out as he kind of lost consciousness.

He came back to himself to feel Jensen peppering his face, neck and upper torso with tiny but heartfelt kisses. He had no name for the feeling currently filling him, sheer happiness, utter contentment, complete relaxation, all of the above. For the first time in his life, he felt accomplished and certain of the bright future ahead of him and his lover.

He hadn't even seen a ghost, let alone several, while Jensen was making love to him. It was more than probable that they had been around, but they had made themselves scarce in deference to Jensen and their lovemaking.

This was the best omen, the proof that their union was sacred and protected. They would get the happy ending they wished for.

"Love you," Jensen murmured against his lips. "So much."

\-------------

Chad decided he had seen enough and that his friend deserved a bit of privacy for the first night he got to enjoy with his love. Sex was one thing – God, he missed the feeling ! – but cuddles and sweet nothings murmured in the throes of passion were for the lovers, and them only.

Jared was in good hands with Jensen. The man was so head-over-heels with Jared, and his ability would come in handy to show him when Jared needed time to himself or when Jensen should on the contrary take care of him and keep close. If he didn't, Chad would see to it that he be set straight. He would not permit that any more harm came to his friend.

Chad willed himself back up on the street. It had rained, the ground still wet, and he could see through the pavement down to the sewers where the water was accumulating. He had died with his head plunged into a full basin and water was still not his favorite element, even one century later. Only the sight of Jared showering had helped him get over the fear that had followed him into death.

Still, he leaped into Jensen's car and made himself at ease on the back seat. These things were comfortable and powerful, much more so than at the time of his death. He had only had one opportunity to drive but he realized he would be able to try again now that he had finally mastered his control over matter. Every time the two lovebirds would be lost in each other's eyes or making sweet love, Chad could temporarily purloin Jensen's car and drive around.

He knew Jared and Jensen's love story would help him again out of his boring afterlife. He had left the graveyard twice already thanks to them, and he had imprinted the world. He could do more, so much more. Thinking big was his trademark, and this time no mayor or little hoodlum could stop him. He was bound to do great things !

He couldn't wait.

\-------------

Jared reopened his eyes to see a dead woman peering at him, clad in some very ancient attire bearing witness to the great remoteness of the time her life and subsequent death had taken place. He smiled at her, willing to show from the get-go that he was no threat and be appreciated by Jensen's friends. He had no doubts, judging by the way all the ghosts had smiled upon Jensen's entrance in the catacombs, that his lover was revered down here for the care he had lavished upon the spirits living underground and their home. Jensen himself had told him how he loved to play with the auras here, rolling around in the colorful displays only he could see to watch them mix and often clear and light up at each other's contact, communing with them in a strange but beautiful dance, and Jared had wished more than ever to be able to see the auras and admire the performance, almost as much as he hoped to be able to keep working the way he had all those last years.

With a last glance to the nearby ghosts, he turned instinctively towards Jensen for reassurance.

"I'm so happy with you here. And yet there's this part of me that's scared that I won't get to work anymore."

"The police released you. Even if they keep an eye on the place for a while, they won't shut down the funeral home. They know you're innocent of any wrongdoing, however much Stuart and Bancroft wished to pin the whole thing on you."

"The police, yes. But what about the other people ? You know how everyone always thinks that where there's smoke, there's fire. What if nobody ever wants to entrust me again with their loved ones ?"

"Well, I could see you taking care of the thousands of dead spirits here in the catacombs. You'd be my kept boy, we'd make love in a different crypt every day under the keystone and our combined auras would power up the lamps along the whole network of tunnels and rooms."

Jared listened to Jensen with a growing smile, his heart already lighter. Jensen was good for him on so many levels, including his daily fight against a marked tendency to brood.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you ?"

Jensen kissed him in answer, showing his own deep love with his mouth and hands. When they separated again, Jensen kept him close, murmuring against his lips.

"You'll make it work again, Jared. Because you love what you do too much to give up, and people will see that. All they need is to know you and see how much you care for their loved ones. Sheppard's thievery will only be a problem as long as you let it. If you want, I will help you choose someone to replace him by telling you if their aura matches what they say, someone you'll be able to trust completely. And you can ask your ghostly friends to keep an eye on everything before you get to that point, right ?"

Jared inserted his face in the space between Jensen's head and shoulder. He felt so confident in this man's arms. The world seemed suddenly much simpler. His fear of being discovered had vanished, replaced by the exhilaration of being understood and loved for who and what he was.

"I always thought I would spend my whole life alone, you know. You're just like this incredible gift a kid has hoped for all his life and never thought he'd be good enough to get. And yet…"

"Yet we're here, and for the long haul."

They were both kind of drunk on love and words, and Jensen was ready to make it worse by offering him a glass of the champagne he had brought earlier to their bed. They clinked glasses and then sipped the bubbly nectar. Soon, they would feel the need to eat but right now they took time to enjoy the moment.

"You know what you told me before we made love ?" Jensen asked after he put their empty glasses on the nightstand. "That you want to spend your life and death with me ? Now I can see that I'll need to be the first one to leave."

"What ?"

"When we're old, and death is upon us. I'll be the first one to leave, so that we'll still be together."

"We won't be able to touch," Jared said, shivering under Jensen's erotic hands and unwilling to ever give up on that wondrous feeling or to lose the ability to touch his lover.

"For a while, maybe. But if Patrick Swayze was able to learn, I'll do it too."

Jared kissed him again. They would learn together, and whoever left first, they knew where to look for the other.

Life or death didn't seem so lonely after all when you had someone to share them with.

\-------FIN-------

**Author's Note:**

> I was mostly inspired by the catacombs below Paris, that I visited a very, very long time ago. I had the idea of Jensen and Jared making love down there and then found out that I wasn't the first (well, not including J2) when I googled for images of the catacombs and found some [pics](http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/oct/13/paris-catacombs-offer-airbnb-spend-night-six-million-dead-bodies) showing it had been done already by Airbnb. I used those for inspiration too.
> 
> And finally, for those interested, here's the prompt I worked with but I didn't kept much of it, only the bare bones, so to speak ;) : _"Her Ladyship's Companion : In the Scottish countryside of Selkirk, Lady Isabella Stirling resides at Bowhill Park, serving penance for a sin that nearly ruined her family. For five years she has been condemned to a loveless marriage and confined to the estate where she does little more than tend her rose garden. With her husband absent for months at a time and few visitors, Bella lives a lonely existence, denying the passions that burn within her very soul. Then her cousin comes for a visit and makes an outrageous suggestion: what Bella needs is a lover. A hired lover. Despite her need, Bella says no. But soon Mr. Gideon Rosedale arrives-and he is at her service for two weeks. Indulging in what she intends to be a harmless flirtation, Bella is overcome by Gideon's intoxicating presence. And when she at last permits him to satisfy her desires, she discovers she's done the unthinkable-she's fallen in love."_


End file.
